


Don’t Get Attached

by Atumun15



Series: The Negative Aspects of Life [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hate, Inner Demons, Loneliness, M/M, Sad, part series??, we’ll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:44:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atumun15/pseuds/Atumun15
Summary: The last of the innocence and hope left in my heart tried to convince my head that I was just imagining it; that all the insults had just been purely out of fun and didn’t have even a tiny bite to it.But I knew better.





	Don’t Get Attached

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to pt2 of sad fun thoughts :)))
> 
> I wrote this when I was half asleep I apologize. 
> 
> Also this isn’t edited.

A lot of the time I can’t help but feel as though I don’t deserve the little love that I receive.

It’s not purely the idea of self loathing as reality plays too big of a part in all of this. However, it’s hard to not loathe a lot about who I am as a person when the facts are dealt on the table in front of me in fine print.

But it hadn’t just been the tweets or messages I received but the slight indications further proving my point of the underlying hate most held for me but were too cowardly to say anything. It was frustrating to walk into a room and feel the tension begin to build up with every word that fell from my mouth. Sometimes, it got so bad that I would either leave or just stay quiet in the corner. The last of the innocence and hope left in my heart tried to convince my head that I was just imagining it; that all the insults had just been purely out of fun and didn’t have even a tiny bite to it. But I knew better.

This had happened to me one too many times.

They all begin to like me in the beginning, but as I become more comfortable with myself around them, they begin to dislike how loud I can be, how over obsessive I can be which in a lot of cases is just me being extra and passionate at the same time. Then the insults begin to get thrown around, the “fake” abuse becoming too regular and harsh for my liking and soon, I get isolated.

It’s hard not to hate yourself and accept the loneliness when your friends start hanging out without you, starting group chats without you in them, and making sure you feel alone when you ARE with them. And it surely doesn’t help when your family shoves you to the side for crumb of bread when their bellies are full and hearts content.

So, when you’re shown so much hate over the span of nearly 18 years, you begin to grow around the hate. Shoving it into a firm ball and store it away for a later date, ultimately weighing myself down with an unnecessary amount of it.

I’ve taught myself to not get attached to those who show me affection and love. It never lasts long enough and by the time my heart begins to give into the idea of me maybe finding my place among others, it all gets ripped away from me. They begin to show the signs of hatred and irritation that I’ve become so mastered at seeing and I push myself away before they get the chance to do the same.

I still haven’t quite pinpointed what it is I do that pisses them off. Maybe it’s different for everyone. Maybe for one person it could have been a comment I made, one too many screams for another, or pouring my heart and soul out to the wrong person who finds it uncomfortable. It didn’t matter what it was, because no matter how hard I tried to fix it, I couldn’t and I was left being stuck as the annoying loud boy no one was brave enough to tell to shut up and be quiet.

So, I feel as though in a lot of ways that this majorly plays a big role into how I act around others now. I stay quiet, keep myself isolated for the sake of my heart and mind around the people I knew, deep, deep down, that cared for me. Instead of being with my eight best friends at home, eating a meal two or three of them made; I was at the dance studio, trying to make up for the practice I missed today to avoid the rest of them.

I could feel myself growing comfortable with them again. This hadn’t been the first time I had fallen comfortable with the rest of the boys but I had realized my mistake quick enough to bring myself out of it but this was the second go around and I knew I couldn’t drag myself out of it this time. I thought no one would notice my frequent absences but as my body began to tire from not only lack of sleep but just physical exhaustion and I came back home, I learned that I was very wrong.

On the couch, illuminated by one lamp and one lamp alone, was Woojin sat on his phone looking not only worryingly tired but bored. “Hyung? Why aren’t you in bed?” I muttered, setting my dance bag down on the ground and shrugging off my coat. I kept my eyes away from locking into Woojins but I saw him sit up roughly and make grabby motions without uttering a word. I felt like my body was stuck in place, my breath hitching in my throat. I debated telling him no and that he should go to bed, but this was Woojin. I just couldn’t say it.

The tiniest of sighs slipped past my lips and I tugged off my shoes before standing in front of the elder. Woojin twined his arms around my waist and nuzzled his head into my tummy sleepily, placing butterfly kisses as he shifted his head to reach close by areas. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my throat by how fast it was beating, fingers unable to resist the temptation of feeling the softness of Woojin’s hair. “It’s so late, Felix-seu, why are you just now coming home?” If I were honest, the concern in Woojin’s voice scared me.

Because I had been fucked over so many times and it was all because of me. This would end just like the last few where Woojin would end up hating every part of me and I’d be stuck in the dark of my room wishing for an escape, a place where I belonged. All of this was my fault because I wasn’t good enough for anyone.

“Felix?”

I separated myself from Woojin, smile fading away as reality set in. This would end just like all the other times. “Go to bed, Hyung. You need rest” I hadn’t meant to come off as cold but the way Woojin’s face dropped into a sad one hurt my heart more than it should have. I never wanted to see that expression again, much less cause it. Suddenly, so suddenly I flinched back, Woojin stood up and hovered above, staring at me with such intensity I couldn’t help but shrink back.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

It felt like my breath left my lungs and my blood ran cold. I hadn’t even realized I was trembling until hot tears began to hush down my cheeks and Woojin buried me into his chest, holding me close to his collarbone.

I’m not sure if I told him what was wrong that night, and I’m not sure I ever will. I didn’t want this to end the same like all the others and there wasn’t a chance that I would consider pouring my darkest secrets out to them. The only thing I remembered was the feeling of being tugged Into Woojin’s bed and cradled in his arms, gentle kisses peppering along the back of my neck.

But the only thing that ran through my head was:

I don’t deserve it.

Don’t get attached.

 

[Moodboard](https://twitter.com/atumun15/status/984619444721811459)


End file.
